


Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies

by orphan_account



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Daemons, Daemons are super protective, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, M/M, Mirror-image daemons, Mugging Scene, Non-consensual daemon touching, Q's trying to be logical about this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:44:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Skyfall, James Bond is sent down to Q-Branch, but nothing could prepare him for what he'd find there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Encounter

 

“Ma’am?”

M looked up from her desk. Tanner stood in the doorway to her office, holding a personnel file in each hand. She recognised both of them instantly and frowned at Tanner. They were in his clearance… Just. But he didn’t need to wave them around.

“Tanner?”

He put the files next to her computer.

“Q’s meeting 007 today, isn’t he?”

M didn’t blink.

“I believe so.”

“Did you tell Q about… Well…”

He trailed off uncertainly, looking over his shoulder at the bustling office behind him.

“No, I didn’t. I imagine they’ll find out for themselves fairly quickly.”

Tanner stared at her.

“Where are they meeting?”

“The National Gallery.”

“So surrounded by civilians, with…” He sighed.  “I’ll go start filling out the Incident Report shall I?”

M gave him a trying look and waved him out of her office. To an extent, Tanner was right. But it was a risk she was willing to take.

 

 ***

 

Bond wasn’t really looking at the painting. The concise brushstrokes and the blended colours forming one of the world’s greatest masterpieces didn’t interest him. He just wanted to get back in the field, to relieve the itch that had settled low in his stomach since he’d recovered on the godforsaken island. Taillan sensed his impatience and shifted her weight from one haunch to the other. There was no one else in the room, people tended to avoid the dangerous man and his pitch-black panther daemon. Bond didn’t mind. He was always meant to be alone.

He heard shoes clicking on the floorboards of the museum, and although he didn’t move as someone sat next to him, he was immediately on high alert. It was a young man, barely out of boyhood, with ridiculous hair and a raincoat. He stared at the painting, watching the newcomer out of the corner of his eye. Taillan sat on the other side of him, and Bond could feel her trying to sense out the new daemon in the room, but it was on the opposite side of the seat, out of view. It was only then that he realised the man, the boy, was talking.

“It always makes me feel a little melancholy. Grand old warship, being ignominiously hauled away for scrap. Inevitability of time, don’t you think?” When Bond didn’t answer the cocksure youth, he spoke again. “What do you see?” Bond felt cool eyes looking into him, seeing too much, and not even flinching away from Taillan’s shadow.

“A bloody big ship. Excuse me.” Bond started to get up, but that sharp, posh voice called him back.

“007. I’m your new Quartermaster.”

“You must be joking,” Bond said, Taillan’s disbelief adding onto his own.

“Why, because I’m not wearing a lab-coat?”

“Because you’ve still got spots.”

“My complexion is hardly relevant.”

“Your competency is.”

 “Age is no guarantee of efficiency,” his new Quartermaster said, effectively cutting Bond down to size. But he was famous for not giving up without a fight.

“And youth is no guarantee of innovation.”

“I’ll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pyjamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field.”

 “Oh, so why do you need me?”

“Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled.”

“Or not pulled, it’s hard to know which in your pyjamas.” There was a pause, but Bond was holding back a smile. “Q.”

“007.”

They shook hands, Taillan’s eyes closely following the exchange. Q gave him his envelope, his gun and radio, and ran him through the operating procedures. When Q stood up, Bond caught him glancing at Taillan, curiosity and something Bond couldn’t place flitting across his face before he looked back towards the exit. Bond saw a flash of white as Q’s own daemon disappeared around the corner, obviously not wanting to be seen. Q nodded once more at the pair of them and followed Lleida. M had a lot of explaining to do.

 

 ***

 

Skyfall was messy, and Lleida wasn’t happy that whenever a certain agent came into Q-branch she had to remain the Q’s office with the door closed. Q and M decided it was for the best, they didn’t want Bond more distracted than he already was. They would wait until Silva had been dealt with and then they’d discuss the best path from there. Q never got that chance.

 

 ***

 

M died, her fox daemon exploding into gold sparks, Bond and Taillon holding them as they slipped away, and slinking back into the darkness, into the shadows, drinking and dying for a fortnight, staring at the porcelain bulldog, until his mind cried for something, anything else. A distraction that would keep his head out of the chapel, and the grief out of his heart. He reappeared on MI6’s new doorstep with his usual unbreakable confidence, flirting with Moneypenny until Mallory, M now, called him in. He walked out minutes later with a file, and a new research mission. Moneypenny eyed it, the playfulness gone from her face. Her falcon daemon stopped its routine circuits around the office and settled onto her shoulder.

“Go down to Q-branch. The Quartermaster’s expecting you.”

Bond nodded, but Moneypenny wasn’t done.

“James? Don’t… Give him a chance, alright?”

Bond nodded again, slower this time, before walking out. What was Moneypenny talking about? He’d only met Q briefly over the course of his previous mission, but they got along well. Bond enjoyed their banter, however quickly it had been over, and he would never have been able to lay the trap for Silva without Q’s handiwork. If anything, he owed the man. Taillan huffed her affirmation.

Bond walked quickly to Q-branch, occasionally stopping frantic interns to ask for directions, committing the floor plan of the new Headquarters to memory. He made his way underground and finally arrived at the tech-haven run by Q. Desks were lined across the office and the sound of typing was almost mesmerising. The wall opposite the door was covered in huge screens, with a desk on a raised platform underneath. Q was standing there, typing on three keyboards at once as different documents and images flashed across the screens. As they approached, Taillan nudged Bond.

“He doesn’t have his daemon with him.”

Bond looked around and realised it was true. From the white flash he’d seen in the Museum, Q’s daemon seemed fairly sizable and there was nowhere for it to hide in the scatter of the room. Now that he thought of it, he’d never even met Q’s daemon. It unnerved him slightly, but only because he didn’t like secretive people working for his country. It was always safer when he could read someone, look straight into their mind, and figure out if they’re a threat or not.

“He must have an extensive range,” Bond answered. It was possible, of course. He and Taillan could stand distance between them, all it took was training. Painful training.

When he reached the edge of the platform he cleared his throat. Q swiped a hand across the keyboard one last time and the screens blacked out simultaneously, before turning to face the agent.

“007. M sent you?”

The rich voice was exactly how Bond remembered it.

“Q. He did. Apparently I have a new research project.”

Bond held out the report, but Q didn’t take it and strangely enough his red lips quirked into the resemblance of a tired smile.

“Of course he would’ve told you it was a research project. Follow me, please.”

Q walked to the side of the room where a separate office was. The windows were huge, but had been tinted, Bond presumed it was one-way glass. When they reached the door, Q stopped again and lowered his voice, making Bond lean in to hear him.

“This is an odd situation and we don’t know what it means. I would tell you that there’s no pressure to find out, but it seems like that’s M’s new official directive. I just ask you to remain calm. Both of you,” Q added, glancing briefly at the black shadow of furred muscle at Bond’s side.

Bond frowned. He didn’t like how on edge the Quartermaster was.

Without another word, Q pressed his key card to the door and opened it, stepping inside. Bond followed him and froze.

The door swung shut behind them.

Taillan’s tail twitched before she let loose a low, rumbling growl.

Q walked over to his daemon and put a hand on her neck. Bond couldn’t tell if it was a comfort for the daemon, or a comfort for Q. Either way, at the touch his daemon rolled its shoulders and stood at Q’s side, waiting.

“This is impossible,” Bond finally managed to say. Taillan’s continuous growl underlined his words.

“It’s not,” Q said softly. “It’s merely so rare it’s thrown off as a myth.”

Q’s daemon was a panther. But unlike Taillan, her fur was pure white, seeming to shimmer with every movement of her sides as she breathed. Many people had the same animal for their daemon, it would be impossible not to, and not much was thought of it. A daemon that mirrored another one, though… Q’s daemon was smaller than Bond’s, less muscled and lean, like its partner, but the eyes matched Taillan’s exactly. The fur was a giveaway. It wasn’t a replica, it was the precise opposite. Bond slowly looked down at his soul-partner and took in her tense stance, defensiveness rolling off her in waves. She was unnerved as he was. It was like looking in a mirror that turned everything into negative. Q and his daemon stood still.

“This is Lleida,” Q said, when Bond obviously wasn’t going to say anything else. “M – the former M – knew before we’d even met. She thought it best to introduce you after the mission. Unfortunately she didn’t tell me her plan for after that.” When Bond remained silent, Q continued. “I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve kept this from you, I only wanted to wait until the time was more appropriate.”

Taillan’s growl filled the room. Finally, Lleida stepped forward, causing Taillan to tense, ready to throw herself at the other panther. Lleida took another step, and then a third until she was halfway between Bond and Q before she stopped, looking at Taillan towering above her.

“Hello.”

She said it out loud so Bond could hear it, too.

“I’m not going to hurt him. This is unsettling, but it’s not necessary to jump to rash actions or conclusions. However,” her voice hardened. “You don’t as much look at mine with bared teeth from now on, or you’ll find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of an attacking panther.”

Taillan tilted her head, staring daggers at Lleida.

“And I would kill for mine.”

Lleida took another step forward.

“Seems we’re at an impasse, then.”

Finally, Lleida relaxed, although her tail was still twitching. The black panther leant forward as far as possible and sniffed Lleida’s face, who patiently allowed it before repeating the action.

“It seems we are.”

Bond stepped around the daemons and settled on Q’s couch, looking at the Quartermaster.

“So where does that leave us?”

Q tore his eyes away from the daemons.

“Well, we could always try to not kill each other, too.”

Bond laughed, out of shock more than anything. The tension in the room ceased and Taillan stalked around Lleida before settling next to Bond, stretching out at his feet.

“I think that’s a very good place to start.”

 


	2. Second Encounter

 

“They’re coming back today.”

“I know.”

“But they’re coming back today.”

“Lleida, I am aware.”

“Q, they’re coming back. Today. In a few hours.”

“Will you calm down, you’re making me nervous!”

 

 ***

 

Bond had been in deep cover for the past five months, leaving only two days after he’d met Q’s daemon. They didn’t get a chance to talk about, much less plan, what they would do. But now they’d all met, Q felt anxious that they were separated, almost like he was missing a growing necessity to his life. Lleida felt it too, but unfortunately didn’t have coding or organising missions to take her mind off things. The rumour mill had run wild when the story got out, and although the whispers had ceased during Bond’s absence, HQ was back to buzzing. It didn’t help that Lleida was nervously pacing around the walls of Q-branch, completely blowing Q’s calm exterior.

“Lleida, will you hold still!”

The white panther fixed her eyes on Q.

“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re just as expectant as I am, you’re just easily distracted.”

“No, I have a better poker-face.”

“It’ll crack as soon as Bond walks in, and you know it.”

Q’s ears turned red as he looked back at the screen.

“Just go to sleep for a while, please?”

Lleida stalked back over to Q’s main desk and curled herself around his feet, planting him in front of the screens. She began grooming herself, ignoring the huff from her soulmate.

“Three hours, Q. Get to work.”

 

 ***

 

“You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m cleaning my gun.”

“No, you’re obsessing over it. Why does it matter what Q thinks now?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Don’t you lie to me, James.”

Bond sighed and put his Walther back together.

“It’s been five months, Taillan.”

“And?”

“And apparently Q’s soul and mine are linked, or something…”

Taillan tossed her head.

“Well, I don’t feel linked to anyone, much less the snowdrift that follows Q around.”

Bond looked at her and smirked.

“Really? So when Q got the flu and Lleida got sick as well, you weren’t worried?”

“She’s a panther, albeit a pathetic excuse for one. She must have some kind of resilience. I knew it’d be fine.”

Bond looked out the window of the private jet and grinned as the London Eye and Big Ben crept into view.

“Bullshit.”

 

 ***

 

Bond took a fortifying breath before stepping into Q-branch, pretending not to notice how everyone froze for a second, and then fake working. The more skittish daemons scuttled beneath chairs, or flew to their roost on the ceiling. Q was standing at his desk, Lleida curled around his ankles, but she jumped onto her feet when she saw Bond and Taillan.

“Q,” Bond said when he reached the desk.

“007, welcome back. Congratulations, you did well.”

Both daemons situated themselves at their partner’s sides, immediately engaging in a staring contest.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Well, maybe if you’d listened to me, I wouldn’t have had to explain to M why three government buildings spontaneously became a fireworks display.”

Taillan let loose a growl, cutting it short when Bond put a hand on her neck.

Lleida cocked her head, apparently she wasn’t the only one who didn’t take criticism well.

“I didn’t want you getting bored, Quartermaster.”

“With you in the field? Never. What equipment did you deem useful enough to return?”

Some of the tension leaked out of the room, the minion’s daemons settling from their watchful states.

Bond handed his Walther over, proud of its pristine and sparkling condition. Q turned to his desk and took it apart swiftly. Lleida turned too, jumping up to put her front paws on top of the workspace, watching Q’s hands. Q almost smiled, for Lleida to show her back to a predator-daemon like Taillan was a high sign of trust.

“Anything new going on here?” Bond asked as Q worked, glancing briefly as he felt Taillan’s sudden uneasiness.

“No. It’s been relatively quiet since we set up shop. Internally, anyway. I still have three agents out in the field.”

Bond hummed, and tried to think of what to say as Q finished his weapons inspection and put the pieces into a tray.

“Say, Q?”

Taillan looked at him, picking up on his tone.

“Yeah,” Q said, turning around, his mind still on the Walther.

“Do you want get coffee sometime?”

Lleida’s ears pricked up, while Taillan’s flattened against her skull.

“Can I get these agents back home first?”

Bond smiled a rare smile, his stomach settling at the knowledge of action being taken, and a decision being made.

“I suppose it would be more professional.”

Bond offered Q his hand, but as Q reached forward to shake it, Taillan leapt, teeth snapping where Q’s fingers had been milliseconds before. A growl ripped through the room, and the moment it took Bond to notice it wasn’t coming from Taillan was enough for Lleida to push herself off the desk and barrel into the black panther. The daemons rolled across the floor, a black and white blur that sent minions and their daemons scurrying as they tried to get out of the way. They hit the wall with Lleida on top, her paw pressed against Taillan’s chest as a warning. Taillan ignored it as Bond shouted at her, kicking Lleida off with her back legs. Lleida flew backwards, cracking her head against the wall. Bond caught Q as he staggered forward, and then Lleida was beside him, growling as she took Q’s weight, making Bond let go.

R started taking control of the scattered minions, but Q interrupted her, waving off her concerns.

“Everyone, back to work. Johnson, that report in five? And Stevens, find me 004’s tracker, we need to establish contact in fifteen minutes. Tae, return 007’s equipment to storage, please.”

Heads went down and fingers flashed across keyboards. Taillan skulked back to Bond’s side and nudged his hand. He ignored her. Lleida snarled at Taillan’s proximity, but Q pushed her off balance.

“Shush, Lleida.”

Lleida dropped her head at Q’s commanding tone, but didn’t move from her protective position.

“Q, I’m so sorry,” Bond began, but Q cut him off with the same authoritarian manner.

“You’re dismissed, 007. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Bond almost said something, but Q’s glare rendered him speechless. He turned on his heel and marched out of Q-branch, out of Headquarters, and didn’t even acknowledge Taillan until he was in his apartment, halfway through a bottle of scotch.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Her tail flicked angrily as she rose from the ground.

“I could ask you the same thing, James! When did you decide that we were going to partner up with Q and his bloody panther?!”

Bond stared at her.

“No one said anything about partnering.”

Taillan reared up, putting her paws on his chest. Bond felt her claws through his shirt.

“No one had to! You know what the stories are, about mirrored daemons! Everyone does! And you thought that you were just going to strut into Q-branch and start some kind of relationship with your Quartermaster?”

“Our Quartermaster, Taillan.” No matter what happened, they were a team.

“No. He’s yours. You laid claim to him the moment you stepped into that room, and you didn’t even talk about it to me! You chose him over me, James!”

Bond’s stomach sank and he reached out to put his arms around his daemon, but she pushed off his chest and stalked to the far side of the room, disappearing into the shadows.

“You forget, Bond, that Kosha died in front of me, too.”

Kosha was Vesper’s daemon, a marmoset with shining fur. Taillan hadn’t even been able to hold him, he’d burst apart in the cage underwater.

“Taillan…”

Yellow eyes fixed on him.

“I can’t do that again, James. And I won’t let you do it, either.”

Bond followed Taillan into the darkness. When Bond felt her weight against his leg he sat down, relaxing when she leaned into him.

“They’re as devoted to England as we are.”

“I know that. I’m not talking about betrayal.”

Because after all those years, the feeling of Vesper’s infidelity had diminished behind the greater wave of loss, and love, and complete loneliness. Bond didn’t know it was possible to be as happy as he had been in the short time he was with her. He gave up everything for her, not that she cared. But the feeling of her cold skin, of Taillan’s wet fur collapsing next to him, had never faded, even as Le Chiffre’s scars did.

“Realistically, Q and Lleida will outlive us by a long shot.”

“And if we’re partners? Would you want them to go through what we did, when we finally get sent out and don’t make it back?”

Bond didn’t need to answer.

“So what do we do?”

“We keep them safe, from us. We keep away.”

Bond nodded, laying a hand on Taillan’s side, letting it rise and fall with her breaths.

 

 ***

 

Q lay on the couch in his office with Lleida stretched across his lap. It was some ungodly hour in the morning and he was still waiting for 004 to sign in. When he’d finally managed to get R to leave he got the blanket and pillow from his desk drawer and settled into wait, his tablet on the table next to him.

“Taillan was upset,” Lleida said.  “I felt it. I thought when she came in that it would be fine, but when Bond asked you out she just… She was furious and hurt and scared. Why, Q?” Lleida butted Q’s head. “Why did she feel like that?”

Q rubbed her behind her ears, keeping well away from the bruise she’s received in the fight.

“I don’t know. Whatever it was, Bond hadn’t thought of it. He almost seemed… relaxed, don’t you think?”

Lleida hummed, lost in her own thoughts.

An hour later, Q picked up the tablet and started playing Candy Crush, just to keep himself awake, swearing softly and resisting the urge to hack past the level.

“So what do we do?” Lleida finally asked, staring at the floor.

Q went over the day’s events in his mind. Both man and daemon had extensive training, he was proud of how Lleida had held her own, but it shouldn’t have happened. Whatever it was, their presence had started alarm bells in Taillan’s mind that made her revert to her training in a friendly situation, and hurt his Lleida in the process.

“I think,” Q said. “That we need to let them sort it out and come to us. If something’s aggravating her, she and Bond need to figure it out. I don’t want you getting hurt because they’re not ready.”

Lleida huffed at the implication that she couldn’t protect herself, but agreed nonetheless. Q always knew what to do. And not even Taillan could resist the facts that were open for everyone to see.

She’d wait.

It’d be worth it.

 


	3. Third Encounter

 

She’d been waiting for a year.

A year of 007 and his panther walking in and out of Q-branch, collecting equipment and depositing the remains, not saying a word beyond professionalism. Lleida was at Q’s side, like she always was, but after the first six months of constant snubbing she merely retreated under the desk whenever they came in. Bond’s eyes flashed to her the first time they entered the room, but she didn’t move, staring at the back wall, not even giving Q any attention. Bond caught Taillan thinking about it later, but she shook off his questions, saying it was probably nothing.

Another two months after that and Lleida was permanently curled in the corner of the room. Bond definitely noticed Taillan’s worried stare, so he hacked the cameras that watched over Q-branch. Q and Lleida had arrived early that morning. Q stepped into the branch, and Lleida trailed behind him, dragging her paws and not looking at anything other than the ground in front of her. She went straight to the corner and collapsed in the same heap Bond had seen her in that afternoon. He flicked through the footage, feeling slightly nauseous when he found that none of the minion’s daemons would talk to her. They all kept their distance, and their human partners just tried not to look. Eventually the footage ran through to current time, where Q-branch was all but empty. Lleida was still in the corner, and Bond watched as Q came out of his office, his satchel slung over his shoulder. He knelt down next to her and ran his hand through her fur. Bond turned the volume up.

“Lleida sweet, it’s time to go home.”

The white daemon didn’t move.

“Come on, let’s go back to bed, hey?”

There was still no response.

“Lleida, please,” Bond felt his heart tug as he heard the tears in Q’s voice, but she didn’t even respond to that.

“OK. OK, hang in there, love.”

Q walked back to his office and came out with a pillow and a blanket, his bag nowhere to be seen. He pushed the pillow underneath Lleida’s head before curling up next to her and throwing the blanket over both of them. With a word, the lights went out and Q-branch was thrown into darkness.

Bond looked at Taillan.

“What’s going on?”

Taillan looked back at him.

“I don’t know.”

 

 ***

 

The next time Bond broached Q-branch, two months later, Lleida was nowhere to be seen.

“Q, where is she?”

Q looked up slowly, and Bond noticed that his cheekbones were more prominent and he had a haunted look to his face.

“Hmm? Oh. Lleida’s in my office, she was feeling a bit tired, we’ve had a few late nights. Not to worry. How’s my equipment?”

Bond hacked into the cameras again, finding the ones for Q’s office. Lleida lay on the couch, the pillow underneath her and the blanket wrapped around her body. Even through the material, Bond could see the outline of her ribs.

“We have to do something.”

“What can we do, James? We don’t even know what’s wrong with them. And it’ll get worse if they become attached, remember?”

Q-branch cleared slowly. When everyone was gone, Q went into his office and picked Lleida up, cradling her in his arms. Bond followed Q from his office down to the showers, flicking through screens to keep them in sight. When the water turned on, Bond switched the computer off.

“Taillan. Are we losing them?”

“They aren’t ours to lose, James.”

 

 ***

 

The last two months, before a year had passed since the panther’s fight, were awful. Q hadn’t been out of MI6 in four months, and his stomach protested the cafeteria food like his body protested the too-cold showers. It had been as long since Lleida had talked to him and he couldn’t remember the last time she was ever truly present. Sometimes she looked at him, but it was like he wasn’t there, like she was staring at something else. Making up his mind, Q shut down the program he was working on and stretched, grimacing. Maybe he was coming down with something. Lately it hurt to breathe.

“Lleida,” he called out, like he always did when he entered his office. She didn’t reply.

“Right. Lleida. Get up, we’re going.”

At the change of tone, Lleida moved her eyes to look at him, and Q tried not to let the relief show in his face. That was more than she’d done in weeks.

“I don’t know the science of what’s going on, but I know it’s something to do with Bond and Taillan, so get up, we’re going to their apartment. We’ll talk it out, or fight it out. But we have to do something.”

He waited for a minute before Lleida moved, shuffling her feet underneath her before rising shakily off the couch. She swayed and Q only just caught her before she hit the floor. He lay her back down on the couch and wrapped her in the blanket again. He inhaled and picked her up, hating how light she was, all her muscle and fat gone long ago, and walked towards the door.

When the first breath of fresh air hit her face, Lleida inhaled deeply, smelling things she had only dreamed about for what seemed like forever. Q held her even closer and started walking towards Bond’s house, only a few blocks away.

The sky was clear for once, the stars shining down on the pair as Q hurried along the lamp-lit lanes, so intent on his destination he didn’t notice there were two people following him. He reached Bond’s apartment and looked up at the windows. He knew the number, of course he did, but he’d never been here before. It looked nondescript, completely average, and as he stared at the black squares scattered across the building, Q wondered if Bond was even home. It was then that he felt the knife sharp against his back, and a voice in his ear.

“Wallet, phone. Empty your pockets.”

 

 ***

 

Bond wasn’t asleep. Even in England he didn’t sleep much, getting enough hours to keep him going through the day, but no more for fear of falling into the nightmares that plagued his longer dreams. He was staring at the ceiling when Taillan twitched next to him. The next second a growl ripped through the bedroom and Taillan was out the door in a shot. Bond felt the tightness growing in his chest as she stretched the link between them. He grabbed his gun and sprinted to the door, flying through it with Taillan at his heels.

“What’s going on?”

But his panther ignored him, pushing them faster until Bond heard voices.

“You must have something more than that! Come on!”

They burst through the front door and his mind screamed at the scene before him.

Q was on the ground, a knife pressed against the back of his neck, held by a solid man dressed in black street clothes. There was a second man who was walking towards a white bundle on the ground Bond barely recognised as Lleida.

“No, I don’t, please!” Q cried out as the knife pressed through his skin. Taillan shot forward, quicker than Bond’s own steps and launched herself at the man holding Q down, her strong jaws aimed directly at his throat. Somewhere in his pockets his unseen daemon disintegrated. Q stood up, spinning as he looked for Lleida. Bond aimed his gun as he followed Q’s gaze. The second man had bent down, looking for his only escape now his partner was dead, and grabbed hold of Lleida, lifting her off the path.

Everyone froze.

The blanket fluttered to the ground.

Even Bond and Taillan had never seen this before, such a forbidden act that was not even used in the dirtiest of fights. Q choked and staggered, his knees hitting the concrete as he reached for his daemon. The sound broke Bond out of his repulsed reverie and a gunshot echoed down the street. The man dropped onto the ground with a hole in his head, Lleida falling next to him, not moving.

“L-Lleida,” Q whispered, stumbling over to her, disregarding the blood painting the back of his neck. He fell on top of her, holding her against him. A golden glow surrounded them both, and Q looked up at Bond, holding his gaze for a moment before he collapsed.

“No!”

Bond was there in a second. He picked Q up, making sure Lleida was secured in Q’s arms, before running them both inside. He lowered them gently on the bed, the gold still evident around Lleida’s fragile body. Bond went to the bathroom and was rifling through the cupboards for his medical supplies when he felt a warm jolt go through him.

He made his way back to the bedroom, gauze and plaster in hand, and stared at the bed. Q and Lleida were still unconscious, with Lleida lying across his chest, but Taillan had joined them. She lay against Q’s arm, with her head nestled in the crook of Lleida’s neck. Bond walked over to them and tended to Q’s wound, not caring about the blood on the pillowcases and situated himself on Q’s other side. He reached over Lleida and put his hand on Taillan’s back. They stayed there until the gold light of death was replaced with the gold light of the morning.

Q came back to himself slowly. He was lying on something soft, so incredibly soft, and the familiar non-weight of Lleida, his Lleida, was on his chest. There was an odd taste in his mouth, somewhat metallic, similar to the one he got after a particularly brutal mission…

The night came back to him with startling clarity. He gasped and sat up, pulling Lleida even closer to him, ignoring his spinning head or aching neck. She woke up at the same time, and pulled herself closer to lick weakly at Q’s face, cleaning the tears he hadn’t even known were there. He whispered her name over and over again, as if that would wipe out the feeling of wrongness, of immorality.

After a while their heartbeats settled and Q began to breathe properly. His face was pressed into Lleida’s neck, listening to her pulse, breathing the life of her back into himself, when he felt a warm jolt, like electricity, go through his stomach. He looked around the bundle of white fur and finally took in the surroundings. He was in a massive bed with expensive sheets. There was light coming in through the window which held a spectacular view of the Thames. There was something else…

He was too shocked to recoil at the sight of Bond and Taillan sitting on the bed next to him. Bond’s hand was on Taillan’s back, and Taillan’s large front right paw rested on the skin of Q’s side, where his shirt had rucked up.

Q froze. He could feel Taillan’s claws, but it wasn’t a threat, it was… Lleida turned her head and looked from Bond to Taillan to the connection with Q.

Bond moved first.

He slipped quietly across the bed, moving slowly enough to broadcast his actions. He kept one hand on Taillan as he leant carefully around Lleida, and brushed his lips against Q’s. Q exhaled into his mouth and kissed him back.

Bond eventually broke away, his spare hand resting on Q’s cheek.

“Never, ever do that to us again.”

Taillan moved in closer, too, nuzzling at Lleida’s face.

“Please tell me you’re going to eat something.”

“Can we just-” Q broke off, and held Lleida even closer. “Can we stay for a bit longer?”

“Q,” Bond whispered in his ear. “We’re not letting you go.”

Lleida huffed at Q’s expression, and the Taillan looked at her curiously.

“I told him his poker-face would crack as soon as Bond walked into the room.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> So, a new idea! I've read all the James Bond daemon fics on AO3 and I love all of them!!! I really like how each of them have different ideas of which daemons would suit James and Q, and the other characters, too. Check them out!  
> Also, the title is a quote from Aristotle, so all credit goes to him! Along the same lines, all the characters are from the James Bond franchise, distinctly not mine, etc, etc.  
> :)


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